


Time of Death

by Selador



Category: Doctor Who (2005), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crossover, F/M, Gen, M/M, Master of Death!Harry, The Master of Death and the Doctor as epic bros, seriously, that's the plan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-19
Updated: 2013-01-18
Packaged: 2017-11-19 01:12:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/567355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selador/pseuds/Selador
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"When the Doctor first met him, the man was crying. The man was, a bit more disconcertingly, the only one left on the space station alive."</p>
<p>Or, the Doctor meets the Master of Death, but the Master of Death has already met the Doctor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Master

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sort of prequel to a story I might be writing. If I do write it, it will be called "Harry Potter and the Doctor" because I'm weak against that classic formula. 
> 
> These fics exist in my head because I think there's not nearly enough of Master of Death!Harry.
> 
> I also think that Harry and the Doctor would be the best of friends. 
> 
> Also, canon? Pssssssh, it's all AU from here, babes!
> 
> Also also, working title. Might change it.

When the Doctor first met him, the man was crying. The man was, a bit more disconcertingly, the only one left on the space station alive.

The infirmary beds were all filled with bodies, and other bodies made as comfortable as possible on the floor. The disease that struck them had to have been vicious to do that to them, thought the Doctor.

“Martha, go back to the TARDIS,” he whispered to Martha, which nonetheless carried across the infirmary. The one who was left pauses in his crying to look up at them. And oh, the Doctor was wrong about his being a man. He was only a boy. Couldn’t have been more than eighteen.

It was times like this the Doctor felt a bitter taste in his mouth and wished he didn’t do this to himself over and over again.

Martha, who knew enough about disease to be wary of contagions, obeyed silently and left the Doctor with the boy. The Doctor, without moving, said as reassuringly as he could when you were going to tell someone that no matter what happened, they were going to die because the one who called him the Doctor couldn’t cure this disease, “It’s going to be alright –”

“Well, certainly,” said the boy, who seemed much too composed for someone who had just been crying. “I don’t need you to tell me that, although you clearly don’t mean it. Who are you?”

The Doctor blinked. “I’m the Doctor.”

A corner of the boy’s lips quirked up. He was no longer crying, but his eyes were red (but the red brought out how truly green his eyes were, and the Doctor felt a prickle of unease. Something was happening here, and he didn’t know what). “’The Liar’ would be a more appropriate title, don’t you think? It’s not your name.”

The Doctor frowned. “It’s the one that matters.”

“It protects you, sure,” said the boy, whom the Doctor was beginning to think was not a boy at all. “But it’s not your real name. But that’s fine. The Doctor it shall be. Do I have to say ‘the’ all of the time, though? Could I just say ‘Doctor’?”

“Of course, most people do,” said the Doctor, thinking quickly. The boy here, he was clearly not human, which was to be expected considering the people on the spaceship was from a planet in the 53rd century and were only human in appearance. They actually had a much more complicated nervous system, and due to that, they had the ability to empathize with another organism by touching them.

This boy was not one of them. But he was also not anything the Doctor had ever seen.

“Why are you crying?” asked the Doctor.

“Why shouldn’t I be crying?” asked the boy. “People have just died.”

“But you’re not one of them,” said the Doctor.

The boy smiled sadly. “No.”

“What are you?”

The boy laughed. “And spoil your fun of figuring it out? Never.”

He stood up, smiled at the Doctor, and said, “Until next time, Doctor.”

And with a _pop_ , he vanished.

...

The next time the Doctor met the boy, it was in the year 1913, and the Doctor was not quite himself. More accurately, he was John Smith.

John Smith did not recognize the boy, but Martha, who had gotten a good look at him in the room filled with bodies, did. Though with everything else going on, she probably wouldn’t have given him the thought to recognize him if he hadn’t appeared in the servants’ quarters, dressed as a cook.

“He really can do that, then?” the boy said, suddenly at her side. She jumped and he clarified, “Make himself forget his own life and replace it, that is.”

She recognized his distinctive features enough to calm down and answer, “I suppose so,” and then, “How did you get here?”

“Oh, he didn’t tell you?” asked the boy. When she shook his head because the Doctor hadn’t said anything at all about that space station, he had just returned and off they went to an adventure that nearly ended in their deaths, anyway. “The same way I left the space station.”

He said that like it explained all, but considering the Doctor hadn’t explained that either, it didn’t really do much. Instead, she asked, “What are you doing here?”

The boy blinked. “Cooking,” he stated, as if it was obvious.

“No, I mean,” Martha gestured helplessly. She looked around herself. “Here, in 1913.”

“Oh,” the boy brightened up. “Vacationing.”

“Vacationing,” repeated Martha. “I don’t know about you, but I could think of a lot of places better than here to vacation at.”

“But it’s fascinating, isn’t it, to know how people lived in this time and place?” asked the boy animatedly. “You and your Doctor, you just hop from place to place, doing as you please. You never actually stop to try to understand the culture, which you can’t really do without living there, at least for a while.”

Martha considered this. “That’s true,” she admitted, “but I don’t really think I could live for an extended period of time in most of the places we go, anyway.” The racism and sexism alone in most of the history of Earth would make most places intolerable to her for long periods of time. As it is, being here in 1913, and forced to be a maid was galling enough.

The boy nodded. “That’s reasonable.” He went on cooking.

Martha began to clean, as was her job, until it occurred to her that she didn’t get his name. “Oh, what’re you called, then?”

The boy looked up and smiled. “Harry.”

...

The Family of Blood did not make an appearance, but a cult seeking to sacrifice the entire town to a massive alien beast did.

It was painful for Martha, to convince John Smith to give up his life to return to the Doctor, and Nurse Redfern didn’t make it any easier. But after all was said and done, and Martha and the Doctor were back in the TARDIS, Martha asked the Doctor, “What happened to the Family of Blood?”

A dark expression passed over the Doctor’s face, before clearing slightly. It was enough that he no longer looked as frightening. “Something in that town frightened them. Something in that town was so terrifying that the Family preferred to die in peace at the end of the three months than try their only possible attempt at immortality.”

A pause, until Martha had to ask, “Well, what was it?”

“I don’t know,” said the Doctor, who looked very frustrated indeed. “John Smith didn’t pick up on anything unusual, being human, and I can’t tell if anyone or anything stuck out. Did anyone seem unusual to you, Martha?”

Martha immediately thought of Harry, the boy who they found in a space station surrounded by the dead and who was happily a low-class chef in 1913. “There was Harry.”

The Doctor, who had began to fiddle with the controls of the TARDIS and hadn’t been expecting a response, turned to look at her. “Harry? Who’s Harry?”

“That boy we found in the space station a while back,” explained Martha, who thought the Doctor had at least known his name. “The one that was wiped out by that virus that eats the nervous system.”

The Doctor jumped and moved without stopping while he spoke. “He was here! In 1913! John Smith never saw him! Where was he? What was he doing? When did you see him? Did he say his name was Harry?”

So Martha explained her interactions with Harry. They never got very deep, at least on his part; while Martha had found someone to confide in while stuck as a maid, Harry never talked nor shared much. He had only been pleasant and kind, but in hindsight, Martha realized she didn’t know anything about him other than his name was Harry.

Afterwards, the Doctor just stared at her. “He spent 1913 cooking.”

Martha nodded.

“A boy, who claims his name is Harry, and who we initially found surrounded by the dead bodies of an alien race he was not to be a part of – without explaining what he was by the way, or what he was doing there, or why he hadn’t been stricken by the disease as well – is somehow able to travel through time and space, without any clear means of doing so, find himself in the same time and space we were in, and decided to stay around for three months.”

“That doesn’t sound very likely, does it?” admitted Martha.

“But he did,” insisted the Doctor. “And – let’s assume that it was his presence that scared away the Family of Blood – why did he decide to go there? Why did he go there to cook, of all things?”

“Some people like cooking, Doctor,” explained Martha. After being quiet for a moment, she added, “Well, maybe he was there to keep the Family away from you.”

It was one of the first times she had seen the Doctor give such a blank expression. She explained, “Well, if he created such a – whatever it was that it would scare of the Family, and if he was aware of that and aware that they wanted to find you... maybe he came here to ensure you would be safe?” Martha added questioningly, when she saw the skeptical look at the Doctor’s face.

“But why would he do that?” demanded the Doctor. “He didn’t even give me his name. I don’t know him. He doesn’t know me.”

Martha couldn’t believe her ears. The answer seemed obvious to her. “Doctor, you’re a _time traveler_. Maybe he knows you in his past and you in your future? Even so, we go around helping people we don’t know all of the time, surely other people can do it, too.”

“Ah. Right.” The Doctor fell silent, lost in thought.

There was little else to say on the subject, so eventually, they snapped out of it, and flew on.

...

They didn’t see Harry again for quite some time. And when they did, they barely recognized him.

“It’s the eyes, isn’t it,” he stated. He was not looking at Martha, the Doctor, or Jack, but they were all staring at him. It was true; Harry’s eyes made him distinctive and recognizable, even though he was covered in dirt, much skinnier than before, had hair that desperately needed a haircut, and an expression that looked as if it had seen the end of days.

Well. It would soon, in any case. But it hadn’t happened yet.

“Who is this?” whispered Jack to Martha and the Doctor, to which the Doctor replied, “I really don’t know.” Further explanation would have to wait, because Harry began to speak.

“What can stop you, Doctor?” He was still not looking at them. “You keep going and going, running and running, hiding and hiding, and you haven’t been stopped yet; when will it end for you? I can’t see it, I can’t see your end, but all things must end. Things must change and things must end. You might have had an end before, but it’s different here, things change here, they never used to change. 

“Now this, what happens next: how will it end? I think I can see it, but everything is moving, I can’t grasp it. But I think I know it, and since I think I know it and I know how to circumvent the sheer amount of suffering that will occur, the question now is this: should I?”

There was no pause. Harry did not expect them to answer.

“Whatever you tell me, it will either be something I agree with or something I do not. Doctor, you never stop. Knowing as I do, you won’t stop bothering me until I’ve told you what I mean. But, Doctor: you can’t know what I mean yet. Not yet. I’ll do as I need, and not even you in all of your greatness will move me.”

Just as suddenly as he started speaking, he fell silent. And then:

“Leave.”

“What?” asked the Doctor.

“Go.” They are beginning to draw attention from the refugees. Haunted, sickened eyes begin to stare.

“I can’t just leave,” protested the Doctor. “What was all that about? And I wouldn’t bother you until I get my answers – oh fine, yes, I’m really curious, what are you going on about, you’re not making any sense!”

“Leave,” said Harry, finally, now, looking at them. Jack felt uncomfortable in his skin with Harry staring at him.

“No, actually, we can’t,” continued the Doctor. “There’s a ravenous group of Futurekind between us and the TARDIS, so unless you have something that can get us past them all the way back to the TARDIS, we actually can’t leave.”

Harry stared at them. Then said only: “Okay.”

The world is pulled out from under their feet, and everything was spinning. The three of them crash-landed on the floor of the TARDIS.

“Whoa! How did he –” and that was as far as the Doctor got as he sat up because the controls began to move themselves. “What!? No, no, no – no, stop it, what’s going on, why are you doing that?” Martha and Jack ran to the console where the Doctor was trying to pull and turn the different controls, to no avail. “Ow! It pinched my finger!”

The TARDIS jerked, and went still. “Is it moving?” asked Jack.

“I don’t think so...” replied the Doctor.

Jack walked over to the door of the TARDIS, and opened it to a rainy London’s day. The Doctor and Martha joined him. “That’s my home,” said Martha to herself, who got out of the TARDIS and walked to her family’s house.

“I think we have,” said Jack. The Doctor ran around the console, pressing levers and pushing buttons.

“Come on, girl, what are you doing, how did he get into your systems? Must have some sort of psionic energy, but how could it invade the TARDIS?” He paused and walked over to Jack and grabbed his shoulders. “Unless – unless, the TARDIS wasn’t invaded! Maybe she let him in! Or – or he’s familiar with TARDISes, if he’s from my future, he might be!” He spun around again and began pushing buttons and pressing levers with fervor. “Hold on to something because we’re going back!”

“Martha’s not here –” said Jack but it was too late, they were off.

When the TARDIS finished shaking, the Doctor threw the doors open to find –

“Oh,” said the Doctor.

Jack rushed forward and saw – “Oh.”

“It was a spaceship,” said the Doctor softly, “but not a very good one, it probably should have been able to even take off, the fact that it managed that anyway shows that somebody at least knew what they were doing – based on the circuitry in the hallways, it probably would have needed someone on the ground the launch it.”

“Oh,” said Jack.

And they watched the sky burn. All of the refugees they had just seen – gone.

...

And just a few minutes before the Doctor and Jack came back, Harry stood with Dr. Yana ( _the Master will die here instead of the multiple deaths he would have had later instead of bringing too many people down with him_ ) and Chantho, holding their hands as they watched the rocket launch. None of them were crying as the rocket launch and secured their death; as they agreed, they stood too close to the launching to ensure a quick death for them, as opposed to a death by the hands of the Futurekind.

Harry, who knew how it would end, thought as the fire around them consumed him that he was glad that they would die before Dr. Yana or Chantho could see the rocket explode.


	2. Meandering With Merlin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack was, surprisingly, the first one to learn Harry's identity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a tumblr, if anyone cares: cumberbatchmehard.tumblr.com. I don't post my writing there, but you can follow my fandom posts and ask me questions! 
> 
> Haven't proofed this, will later.

The Doctor and Jack returned to where they had left Martha, who was waiting for them.

“You left without me!” she cried when they opened the door. “What happened? Why did you leave? Did something happen?”

“The course of history has altered,” said the Doctor. “Someone has changed time.”

“Harry,” said Martha. “What did he do?”

“He interfered. We were there, and if he hadn’t been, something entirely different would have happened. But he was there, and he said – he said something was going to happen that he could circumvent, and whether or not he should. So the question is now, did he? Did making us go circumvent or maintain the event? No, no, no, stupid, of course he circumvented it, that’s why time’s gone all wobbly – who is he? How could he know what was going to happen and _how_ could he circumvent it?” The Doctor is yelling by the end. Martha took a step back, but Jack approached him.

“Doctor, calm down,” began Jack.

“I AM CALM!” yelled the Doctor.

Jack backed away to where Martha was. The Doctor turned away and breathed deeply.

“He said everything was moving,” said the Doctor, “Time is constantly moving but that’s nothing new – unless it is for him, somehow. Unless if he’s from somewhere nothing moves. But _how_ did he get here? The walls between universes are closed, you can’t get through there. But if he did, and let’s say he did, then he would be – he would be outside of time, an independent actor, he wouldn’t create a paradox since he didn’t exist in this timeline before, but all of his actions would change what would have previously would have happened if he hadn’t been here.” The Doctor ran over to Jack and Martha and asked him with intent, “Do you know what this means?”

“No,” said Jack.

“What are you going on about?” asked Martha.

“He’s from a different dimension!” At the blank looks from his companions, the Doctor sighed. “Traveling through dimensions is impossible, no one should be able to do it, with the odd exception. If Rose were here, she could tell you about how –”

“She’s not here!” snapped Martha. “She’s not here, I’m here, and – I mean, you just left _without_ me.”

Martha visibly struggled with something, teetering on the fence, and the Doctor became resigned because he knew what was coming.

“You left me here,” she said more softly. “And I don’t think you noticed the difference.”

...

It was not the Doctor who encountered Harry next, but Jack.

Jack didn’t like to leave the Doctor when Martha had left for good, but as he told the Doctor, he had his own people to look after. And there might have been a small part of him that refused to follow the Doctor around like a puppy when the Doctor left him behind.

So he bid the Doctor not long after Martha, and left him alone. No matter how guilty he felt for that, it wasn’t something he could feel too guilty about. (He understood how Martha felt. Better than anyone, really, because the Doctor didn’t even come back for him.)

When he reached the Torchwood offices, he expected no one to be there. It is later than most of them stay, barring emergencies (which are common).

So why was there light under his office door?

Drawing his gun, he stalked closer to the door. Carefully and suddenly, he barged in.

Harry sat upon his desk. Looking rather well, given Jack just saw him either burn to death in a fiery, spaceship explosion, or mauled to death by the Futurekind.

“Hey, cutie,” Jack smirked, not lowering his gun. “If I’d known I was going to have company, I’d have dressed in something nicer.”

“I would have called ahead,” Harry replied flirtatiously, “but I do so love seeing your gun.”

“Oh, with a face like yours? You only have to ask. I’ll show you my gun any time.”

Harry stood and stretched and Jack felt his mouth dry. He swallowed and licked his lips, and to his frustration, Harry noticed. He smirked as he walked over, with a bounce to his step, not stopping until the barrel of the gun pressed into his chest.

Jack began to suspect that his gun might not be the most effective method of subduing Harry.

“I have a favor to ask of you,” began Harry.

...

“So there is where you’re from?” asked Jack, looking around at... well, a London that looked pretty much the same as it always did in the 21st century. “I gotta admit, I’m a little disappointed that everything looks pretty much the same.”

Harry hummed, considering. “Not so,” he disagreed. “There’s much less discussion about extraterrestrials here.”

“Right, because no Doctor, right?”

“No aliens at the moment at all, actually.”

“Wait, so what happens on Christmas?”

Harry paused in his fast strides to turn to look inquisitively at Jack. “What should happen on Christmas?”

“We usually get alien invasions of some kind,” admitted Jack.

“Oh. Er, no, we don’t get those here. Christmas is usually just some bright lights and snow.”

“What a novel concept.”

Their destination was a lake in the countryside. The very lake of the Lady of the Lake from Arthurian mythology. Who Jack and Harry were going to pay a visit.

Evidently, in this world of Harry’s, Merlin had been an actual wizard. An actual wizard with a rather confusing personal timeline.

“According to Hogwarts’ records, Merlin was a student in the Slytherin house, under Salazar Slytherin himself,” Harry had explained. “However, we also have records of him about 500 years earlier, helping Arthur as King.”

“Couldn’t it just be someone different but with Merlin’s name?”

Harry shook his head. “That’s what I assumed at first, but I visited each man. It’s the same man. It’s the same man, and I don’t know when he dies.”

Harry needed Jack because Jack couldn’t die, and Harry was fairly certain that both of them would die at some point during this trip. Medieval England was not the safest for creatures with supernatural abilities, from both the non-supernatural and the supernatural. “At the present, you could wonder around and only possibly run into a magical creature that will kill you. Back then, it was much more common since wizards who were aware of the problems generally chose to not assist.”

Harry was more than capable of taking care of himself when it came to fighting magical beasts and roaming Medieval England. However, Merlin’s unknown status made him uneasy.

“I have a feeling this is going to be much more complicated and annoying than I hope,” Harry said, as he prepared a... magic circle-thing. It was going to take them back in time to a point they could meet the Lady of the Lake, but after Merlin disappeared from history.

“Hey, backup is always good. Glad to know somebody understands that,” replied Jack, as he joined Harry in the circle. Harry took his hand.

Then the world slipped away to be replaced by... what looked to be pretty much the same, just newer. More green, too.

“Lady of the Lake!” exclaimed Harry, jumping over to the water.

A peculiar thing then happened, which Jack wouldn’t have noticed had he not been expecting the unusual to occur. When Harry touched the water, no ripples move across the surface of the water. Jack noticed this, and therefore noticed when ripples _did_ occur, they clearly were not caused by Harry.

A woman with pale skin – and with a lot of skin because, Jack was happy to note, she was _naked_ – emerged the center of the lake and glided towards Harry. From Jack’s position, he could see Harry smile softly at the Lady of the Lake and shove his hands into his pockets.

Later, Jack pinpointed the moment that he should have known everything had gone to hell and he should’ve run for it. It was when Harry grasped the hand of the Lady of the Lake that started a gold light that enveloped all of them.

And Jack, with his experience time-travelling and everything, should have known exactly what it was as soon as it appeared.

A rift in Time.

...

“Merlin fucked with time and ended up in two different eras and then popped out of it when Time was trying to right itself,” said Jack as soon as he picked up himself up and hauled Harry up from where he had been lying in the mud.

“Seems like,” replied Harry. And then does nothing more than that but stare at the sky. A funny thing, since that’s what he’d been doing while lying in the mud. Jack looked up to the sky. There were some clouds.

He stared at them harder. Maybe wizards communicated with clouds and there was a message there? Jack admittedly didn’t know anything about wizards; Harry had all but told him that he was a wizard, he was from an alternate universe and he needed some back up for an adventure back at home and would he like to help?

After a bit more cloud-watching, Jack cleared his throat. “So, uh, where to next? Do we go and stop Merlin from messing with time?”

“Oh, no, there’s no need for that,” said Harry, still staring at the clouds.

Jack began to get a bit frustrated. “So what do we do then?”

“We go to the point in Time in which Merlin is being pulled apart and grant him death,” the other man stated. “What else there to do? We could try to change the whole debacle before it begins, but,” Harry smiled such a kind smile that Jack wanted to know how he did it and if he could manage it on his back, “what a glorious life he led. It would be a shame to take that away. No, we’ll find him before Time deletes him and that will be more than enough.”

They remained there for hours, though. Jack wished it was because he scored, but all they did was lie in the grass and watch the clouds.

...

Jack insisted on accompanying Harry, and because of this, he and Harry stood together at Harry knocked on the door of a dilapidated, little hut in the middle of some forest.

The door swung open instantly and Jack heard a cheery, “Come in, come in! I’ve expected you earlier!”

An old man – not unexpected, because it was presumably Merlin, who practically had the trademark on old, wizened man look – clutching a staff and welcoming the two of them into a home that was far more interesting than the exterior. Jack set immediately to searching for and examining any magical objects.

“Come to take me away, Mr. Potter?” the man – Merlin – asked jovially. Jack regretfully turned away from his object-searching to watch the current interaction just in time to see something in Harry’s face twitch.

“Unfortunately. I assume you prefer this to Time eating you?”

Merlin laughed. “Quite so.” He glanced over at Jack. “Who is your companion?”

“Jack Harkness, sir,” said Jack, giving the man a hand to shake. “You got any magic doohickeys around here?”

“Jack...” began Harry reproachfully, but Merlin smiled.

“I have just the thing.” Merlin shuffled over to the desk in his abode and pulled something out of a draw. “Here, take this and wear it always. It will warm when there is danger near.” It was a simple necklace; a silver chain and a silver pendant of a triangle containing a circle with a line down the middle. Jack had no idea what it meant, but a warning for danger sounded handy, so he put it on and hid it under his shirt. Belatedly, he noticed Harry was glaring at Merlin.

“What?” Jack demanded, glancing between the two of them.

“It’s nothing, dear sir,” Merlin answered. “Mr. Potter, I shan’t keep you any longer. I am ready.”

Harry’s glare broke off as he sighed and nodded. “So, Jack... uh, this is going to be a bit odd. Just...” Looking uncomfortable, he scratched the back of his neck. Fortunately, Merlin cut in.

“I am asking my dear Mr. Potter to kill me, you don’t have to watch if you wish not to.” He settled down into his plush armchair and relaxed.

“Noted. It’s fine, carry on.”

It was hard to describe later, but Jack made sure to watch every second – because _something_ settled over Harry as he stepped towards Merlin and there was a flash of light and then it was over.

Harry seemed as normal as he ever got, again. “We need to kill the body.” He lifted up his hands and covered nose and mouth of Merlin’s body.

“What – what was that thing before, if that didn’t kill him?” Jack wanted to know.

“I removed his soul and sent it to the afterlife,” Harry told him. He dropped his hands.

They left.

...

Harry attempted to ditch Jack when they returned to Jack’s universe, but Jack wasn’t having any of it. It took some prodding and nagging, but eventually Harry caved under Jack’s well-reasoned and formulated arguments.

“No, stay with me tonight. C’mon, we’ll watch bad movies and eat junk food, but you can’t just run off after something like that and not decompress afterwards.”

It occurred to Jack that perhaps he should contact the Doctor and inform him about what he had learned during this adventure. He saw Harry, relaxing on his couch, watching a bad movie with him looking both as dangerous as the Doctor and harmless in a way the Doctor never was.

Harry was also much more receptive to Jack’s flirting than the Doctor ever was, Jack was pleased to discover.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspiration of the Merlin bit was due to poking around on the Harry Potter wiki and finding out that Rowling's Merlin went to Hogwarts, which is historically about 500 years after Merlin ought to have been helping Arthur. 
> 
> This story will mostly be focusing on Harry's relationship (which so far is planned to be strictly platonic with the Doctor although not with Jack...) with the Doctor, and how I think he would be as the Master of Death as a contrast to the Oncoming Storm and a Time Lord, which is why the Merlin story was resolved the way it was.

**Author's Note:**

> I love crossovers... I have more of this variety on the mind. In fact, I'm going to go continue to write some, right now.


End file.
